Page 39 of Whispers on the Water

He strokes my hair, his breathing steady and comforting. “Please don’t apologize, Sam. After what you’ve been through... I’m just glad you’re here at all.”

Closing my eyes, I smile. Greg is truly the most patient and understanding man I’ve ever met. We sink into a comfortable silence, and I find myself silently rehearsing the words ‘I love you, Greg,’ trying to muster the courage to say them out loud. But I can’t. It’s too much. The man might be brave enough for the both of us, so I swallowed the phrase and began to swirl a finger on his chest. There’s a small patch of dark bonde hair, and I love how it feels beneath my hand. The perfect combination of manliness without being gross.

His voice breaks my contemplation. “Miss Sam? Can I disrupt your daydream?” Without lifting my head from his chest, I look up. “Wanna go surfing before work?” he asks.

The idea instantly excites me and is a snap alert. “God yes, but let’s rinse off first. I don’t want fishes trying to nibble at my bits.” I’m already pulling him out of bed, laughter filling the room as we make our way to the bathroom and shut the door behind us.

Chapter twenty-five

Sam

We get back to the surf shack around nine, just as it’s about to open. I spot Tilly inside, busily arranging sunscreen boxes on a shelf. It’s one of our best sellers as the Costa Rican sun can take most tourists by surprise. Jaco is a hub for tourism, and Ron is a smart man who makes sure we have what passersby need. Though it isn’t the most exciting of tasks, Tilly still looks like she’s stocking dead puppies. The change is so different from her normal perkiness that I’m suddenly concerned I’ve done something wrong.

When Greg and I walk in, Tilly glances over her shoulder. “Hey, you two,” she greets us, but her voice is flat, missing its usual spark.

“Hey. Did you go out this morning? It’s like glass.” I’m hoping to spark a little enthusiasm, but her shoulders remain stubbornly slumped.

“Not yet. I’ll probably grab a quick sesh now that you’re here.” At the mention of surfing, her body does loosen up, but there’s still tension in the air. It takes me a second to see that she and Greg are having some sort of stare-down. But that’s Tilly. She’s as fiercely protective as my real sister.

Ignoring the daggers she’s shooting at my boyfriend, I lean my board against the wall and turn to Greg. “Lunch later?”

“Wouldn’t miss it,” he says. I hear Tilly groan behind me, but I kiss Greg anyway. It’s long and deep and makes my body flare to life. When I finally pull away, he’s smiling down at me like I’m some sort of goddess. As if he thinks I personally created the ocean and sun.

“You better leave before Tilly throws something,” I say quietly. He places a final peck on my nose.

As he turns to leave, I can’t resist giving his ass a playful smack, making him jump theatrically before he all but skips out the door.

“I see you two had a great night,” Tilly says, her tone tinged with bitterness.

“Yes. Do you want the tea or to keep trying to kill him with your eyes?”

There’s a breath pause before she bursts into tears. I rush over to her. The closer I get, the more I realize she looks like she’s spent the night crying. “Woah, Til. What’s going on?”

My arms are around her in an instant, and she takes a few calming breaths. In all our time together, I’ve never seen her lose it like this. It scares me more than the crazy words Greg told me the night before.

She takes a deep breath, attempting to smile. “I’m fine, Sam. Sorry.”

“This is you fine?” I practically yell the question, and she winces.

“Yes. Seriously. I’m just working through some stuff.” She wipes her face clear of the salt trails and forces an even bigger grin. “Well, go on. Tell me about your night.”

I smile, a little hesitant now. “You sure?”

She waves her hand in an impatient circle, sniffling as she does. The gesture is clear; I must distract her before she loses her battle against emotions again. “He told me he loves me,” I blurt out.

Tilly’s arms drop, her eyebrows shooting up in surprise. “Seriously?”

“Yep. He’s in full blown clingy man mode.” I laugh at the sentence, but I’m not feeling goofy at all. In fact, I’m feeling completely raw and exposed. Trying to explain the situation away, I flutter my hand. “But it doesn’t matter. I told him that I’m not good with commitment.” Even as I say it, there’s a twinge of guilt.

“Oh honey,” Tilly shakes her head, clearly not the reaction I expected. We move towards the bar, and I follow, feeling a bit defensive.

“I didn’t want to lie or lead him on! I thought you would be on my side with this.”

Tilly continues to shake her head, pouring herself a mug of beer and taking a gulp. “Tilly it’s nine fifteen.”

“Oh, it’s necessary, Sam.” She takes another drink and then offers the mug to me. Despite the early hour, the cool liquid feels refreshing going down my parched throat after my active morning. “What did he say?”

“That he was just glad I trusted him at all after Kevin.” I pass the beer back, and Tilly takes a gulp, clearly mulling over everything.

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